Circle of Summer

By Lynne Roberts

Three children fall through a mirror at a fairground and find themselves in a magical world . They meet a wizard who sends them on a quest, accompanied by a talking dog.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lynne Roberts
• Release date: Feb 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781927241158

Lynne Roberts

Lynne is a writer, musician, dance teacher and porcelain painter, among other things. She lives on an orchard in the Bay of Plenty, New Zealand where she breeds donkeys and collects grandchildren. Lynne has written copious numbers of educational teaching resources from pre-school through to tertiary level. She writes story books and fantasy fiction for children and poetry for children and adults, always with a strong vein of humour. Lynne also writes musicals for which she composes the original music.

Book preview

Circle of Summer

By Lynne Roberts

Published by Liberty Publications at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Lynne Roberts

ISBN 978-1-927241-15-8

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

Contents

Chapter 1. Mirror Mix-up

Chapter 2. The Wizard’s House

Chapter 3. The Journey Begins

Chapter 4. Caleb’s Story

Chapter 5. Farewell to Caleb

Chapter 6. Mark Makes a Mistake

Chapter 7. Interlude by the Pool

Chapter 8. The Creeping Plain

Chapter 9. A Flash of Fire

Chapter 10. Discovery of the Dragon

Chapter 11. Flight to Aylwin

Chapter 12. How it Ended

Chapter 1. Mirror Mix-up

‘Come on, just a bit further. You’re nearly there.’

Sharon gritted her teeth. She felt all her muscles tighten as she concentrated on moving the lever. There were murmurs of encouragement from the crowd around her. She was so close now. One more move and she would do it. Slowly she eased the lever to one side as she squeezed the trigger to open the metal pincers. The watch was within grasp now; just a little more pressure and it would be hers.

Click. The machine gave a burst of derisive music as the watch fell from the pincers to land back on the revolving platform.

‘Bad luck, you nearly had it. Do you want to try again?’ The elderly man gave her a brief smile as his eyes scanned the crowd for new customers. People began to drift away now the excitement was over.

‘No, that’s all the money I had,’ replied Sharon, trying hard not to cry. She had saved her pocket money for weeks when she heard about the fair and now it was all gone.

‘Here, have a consolation prize,’ said the showman handing Sharon a bottle of cheap perfume. Sharon mumbled her thanks and looked around her for her younger brother. To her horror he was nowhere to be seen.

‘Excuse me, have you seen a small boy? He’s fair haired and about so big. He’s wearing a green jacket,’ she added. The people around the lucky dip shook their heads.

‘Maybe he’s gone to find Mark,’ she thought and set off through the crowds. Frantically she dodged past stalls of toffee apples, leather hats and handmade jewelry. There was no sign of Mark or Paul. Sharon forced herself to stop and think calmly. Where would Mark be?

‘The rifle shoot,’ she cried aloud. ‘I know he wanted to try that.’ She ran off to the shooting gallery where hopeful young lads were trying their luck at shooting rows of wooden ducks. Mark was standing with his arms balanced on a wooden rail, aiming a rifle at a large bulls eye.

‘Mark,’ she called urgently. Mark gave a start and the rifle went off, missing the target completely.

‘Now look what you made me do,’ he said crossly. ‘That was my last dollar too.’

Mark had been practicing at home with an old air gun and a few battered tin cans, and he hoped to score enough points to win a telescope.

To his disgust he had hardly hit anything. He fought back an unwelcome suspicion that the rifle sights had been tampered with and spent all his money in an attempt to hit the bullseye.

‘Here’s your prize. Better luck next time.’ The tattooed young man behind the counter handed Mark a small plastic torch that he accepted with a scowl.

‘I suppose it’s better than one of those blue fluffy dogs,’ he muttered.

Dodging around two small children, whose hands and faces were liberally smeared with candyfloss, he turned to Sharon.

‘Do you have any money left?’ he asked hopefully.

Sharon gave him an exasperated look.

I lost all mine on the lucky dip game and all I won was this bottle of perfume.’ She thrust a small glass bottle in Mark’s face.

‘Oh, yuck,